Fridge Day
by ImJessieTR
Summary: It's the holidays in Pangaea. Can Refrigerator Day survive the appearance of General Chow?
1. Chapter 1

_Scenes of Refrigerator Day – Part One_

(60,000,001BC)

A golden glint of sun was just starting to peep over the horizon. All the lights were out in the Sinclair house – for now.

"Ma_maaaaaaaaa_!" screamed a high-pitched voice, followed by the collective groaning of the entire Sinclair family.

After a few minutes, a tall green Allosaurus female, Fran Sinclair, entered the caveman-decorated room, wrapping her light blue robe tightly around her body. Her eyes were half open. "What is it, sweetheart?" she asked the pink chubby child as he sat in his crib.

His purple eyes glistened as he reached out to her. "Refrigerator Day today?" he asked worriedly.

Fran nodded. "Yes, dear. Now go back to sleep." She started to turn back towards the door.

"Wait! Don't go! Not tired! Gimme presents!" Baby demanded (though he was technically a toddler, his official name was shortsightedly assigned as "Baby").

Fran wearily glanced around for the small clock. She frowned. "It's 5 in the morning," she groused. "No presents until this afternoon."

"But --."

"Good _night_!" she barked before leaving.

Baby frowned. "But it's _morning_," he grumbled, pouting.

* * *

Later that morning, Spike, black-leather clad blue-purple spiky leader of the great Scavenger Pack, woke up in the Tavern on the Swamp, his HQ and jazzhole dive for the Howlin' J band, composed of small blue furry mammals. He scratched himself and stepped over the hungover pack members as he headed towards the calendar by the front door.

Refrigerator Day.

Spike shook his head and decided to resume his nap.

There'd be plenty of food to "appropriate" later today.

He could wait.

* * *

Around noon, Roy Hess, a brown Tyrannosaurus rex with a goofy smile, showed up at a large cave just outside town. He carried a small oblong package wrapped in multi-colored festive wrapping paper and a silver ribbon. He rang a bell outside and out came a blue brontosaurid head. He smiled, "Hi, Monica – gosh, you're lovely today. Your pale blue eyes blend right in with the sky."

Monica rolled her eyes. "Come in, Roy," she said just to humor him. If she ignored him, she learned, he'd stand outside all day.

Roy waited until they were in her living room, filled with cushions and decorative plant life, before clearing his throat, holding out the package as well as he could with his short arms. "I got ya somethin' for Fridge Day," he told her sheepishly.

Monica sighed. "I don't _celebrate_ Refrigerator Day," she explained matter-of-factly.

"Well, that's because I bet you haven't seen your present yet," Roy offered with a big grin.

Monica sat her back legs down on a pile of cushions. "Roy, I'm an herbivore," she informed him calmly. "I eat fresh off trees and the occasional salad at a nice restaurant. I don't have or _need_ a cold box to store dead mammals. It's just a stupid excuse to pump up the mall's bottom line."

Roy stared at her in confusion. He waited a few minutes, trying to come up with something to say. "But," he said finally, "I got you a present." He cocked his large head to try to see the package in his small arms. "Everybody likes getting presents, especially from the dinosaurs they love."

Monica bit her tongue. He was a blue-collar goofball who barely had the brains to get out of his own apartment each day. The fact their marriage had only been a temporary legal necessity didn't seem to faze him. Ever since, he would pop by unannounced, as though they were the closest of friends.

Still, he was too innocent to keep breaking his heart by repeating the fact she really did not love him.

* * *

Deep in the back of the cold dark box, incessant chattering and muttering was hushed harshly by a creaky aged male voice. "Today is the day," he announced … coldly.

"Today," chanted the other voices in awe.

A blue cat-like creature with a saltine for an eye patch and a fork tied to an arm stump nodded. "Yes, today is the day the 'Sinclair family' pride themselves on oppression and cruelty." He looked around to the tens of other small mammals of various colors and shapes as they shuddered in the cold. "But we will not let one more day pass without teaching them a valuable moral lesson."

"Which one?" asked a small grapdelite, with its frost-bitten brown pear-shaped head.

"Being thankful for the year's blessings?" asked another small rat-like creature.

"Coming together as family?" asked yet another creature.

"Experiencing a spiritual epiphany that leads to peace on earth for all time?" asked another.

"NO!" barked the leader with the saltine eyepatch, popping each of them on the head with his fork-hand. "Today is the day we teach them that we will not tolerate slavery and extermination!" he announced to loud cheers.

**Author's Note: I don't own Dinosaurs, or the characters therein. Disney made the show and the Hensons made the characters.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

_Scenes of Refrigerator Day – Part Two_

(60,000,001BC – 2PM)

"Gimme!" Baby demanded as he sat on the kitchen floor for the fiftieth time today.

"No," Fran declared as she started to cook for the large dinner later. She slapped a lid on a steaming pot. "And if you say one more word about it – I'm giving your presents away!"

Baby gasped in horror.

"What's going on?" asked Earl Sinclair, red-and-black plaid-shirted green Megalosaurus, as he stomped into the kitchen. "Ooh, what's that?" he inquired, sniffing deeply. "Could it be? Is Fran (the love of my life) cooking zebra stew?"

She shook her head. "I had to settle for Clydesdales, Earl."

Earl pouted and whined, "But _honey_, that's a working horse, only good for trapping unwelcome guests with stringy meals." He grinned, "The exotics are far superior for holiday meaty goodness."

She whipped around and glared at him. "If you don't like it, I'll give away your meals too."

Earl gasped in horror.

Baby snickered.

Fran glanced sharply at Baby. "Don't think I've forgotten your presents!" she exclaimed.

Baby lowered his head, groaning in submission.

"Hey, Mom," Robbie Sinclair said as he strode into the kitchen from the side door, "is it alright if I invite Spike over for dinner tonight?"

Earl glared at him. "He hasn't required an invitation before. He just up and eats our hard-earned food."

Fran nodded. "This is a _family_ celebration, Robbie."

"But he's _practically_ family," Robbie protested, putting his hands in his red and white varsity jacket pockets.

"The _annoying_ and somewhat _creepy_ part of the family," retorted Charlene, a green Ceratops as she bounded into the kitchen.

Robbie scoffed. "Is it too much to ask everyone to remember that he saved us all from the Scavengers? Doesn't that deserve something?"

Fran continued to cook and averted her gaze. "He defeated the Scavengers only to become their leader," she noted disapprovingly.

"Besides," offered Earl, "we repay him for his kindness when I don't snarl and eat him for emptying our refrigerator, which is going to be _off-limits_ to that freeloader on this, the most sacred day for an appliance." He turned and retreated to the living room to watch television. For him, the conversation was over.

Robbie turned to his mother. "But Mom --."

Fran slapped a long wooden spoon onto the counter. "Robert Mark Sinclair – ever since five o'clock this morning, I've had dinosaurs whining and demanding." She pointed at him angrily. "I don't know _how_ I raised such ungrateful, spoiled, little brats. This is _supposed_ to be a day for remembering our blessings."

Charlene smiled and raised her hand eagerly. "_I_ remember, Mom. I haven't bugged you all day." She cut a quick sly glance at her brother and whispered teasingly, "You're not as _refined_ a suck-up as _I_ am, Robbie."

"Shut _up_, Charlene," Robbie hissed back, stomping angrily to his room.

* * *

Crazy Lou and Scabby, two members of the Scavenger pack, stared at the bar inside the Tavern with forlorn faces. Mudbelly, the drummer for the Howlin' J band, shrugged. "Sorry," he told them in a deep voice, "the counter fridge is only for liquor. Ain't no presents in here."

Crazy Lou, a nerdy brown turtle-faced dinosaur, sighed and turned his back, resting his elbows on the bar counter. "This _bites_! No one ever gets us _nothin'_."

Scabby, a long-nosed green dinosaur, nodded. "But hey – we're delinquents. We aren't _supposed_ to have any loved ones."

Crazy Lou glanced at him, adjusting his thick black glasses. "Our criminal activities are only due to a lack of productive opportunities. We're held back by the culture at large, then blamed when we react in desperate and antisocial ways."

Scabby turned to Mudbelly, who was cleaning glasses. "Hey, Mudbelly – do you guys celebrate Fridge Day?"

Mudbelly cocked an eyebrow. "Uh – _no_," he replied. "We're _mammals_. What do _we_ gotta celebrate?"

Scabby shrugged. "Huh, I guess the whole holiday _is_ kinda awkward from the hairball perspective."

"You could say that," Mudbelly replied dryly.

Crazy Lou's eyes widened. He snapped his fingers at his new epiphany. "I got it!" he shouted. "We could come up with a more inclusive and tolerant holiday that not only provides companionship and feelings of overall brotherhood, but also broadens the present pool!"

* * *

"Roy," Monica began, "you were … extremely … _thoughtful_, but I really can't accept a present for a holiday I don't celebrate."

Roy shrugged. He had been staring at the floor of her cave for an hour. "I … I just … thought … that we could spend the day _together_." He looked up at her. "I promise I'll open it for ya." He clenched the present in his hand. "I mean, I can try. You ain't got no arms and mine aren't all that useful – but --."

Monica leaned her head closer to him and smiled sadly. "Roy, I didn't want to hurt your feelings," she told him with the most compassion she had given him for the year (which wasn't saying much). "I really _did_ think it was sweet you came over to see me today."

Roy looked up with a newfound sense of hope. "You – you _did_?"

Monica nodded. She looked around. "Why don't we go out today? You know, just hang out, in a non-romantic, positively platonic way."

Roy grinned and stood up. "That'd be _great_!"

* * *

"General Chow," reported a small rat-like creature, "the time is almost upon us."

Chow nodded. "Prepare the troops."

"But sir," he replied timidly, "what if they do the same thing they did last time and throw the kid at us?"

Chow smiled. "Leave that to _me_." He cracked open the fridge and spotted Baby playing with some blocks on the kitchen floor. "Psst. Young Sinclair," he cooed with an irritating tone, "we need to speak with you."

Baby looked up and gasped. "Bad food! Ma--."

"Finish that sentence and I'll get your presents taken away!" Chow blurted out in panic.

Baby gasped.

Chow smiled and timidly hopped out of the refrigerator, dressed in rags that barely held together. "For too long we fridge creatures have been imprisoned, sleeping on mats of mold, sustaining ourselves on mere crumbs while you dinosaurs fatten yourselves on our spicy and admittedly delicious meat! No more!" he exclaimed. "We are going to free ourselves!" He pointed his fork at Baby maliciously. "And you better not say a word about it – or we'll make sure your mother refuses to give any more presents – _for the rest of your life_." He started to cackle evilly.

Baby trembled. "I'll … I'll be g-good," he stuttered fearfully.

General Chow nodded. "Of course you will," he said. "You really _want_ those presents, don't you?" Baby nodded. "Refrigerator Day is all about getting presents, isn't it?" Baby nodded. Chow turned to one of his mammalian companions as they started to file out of the refrigerator, whispering, "Watch how incredibly clever this is." He turned back to Baby. "Now, haven't we sustained you all this time?" Baby nodded again. "We've been good, haven't we?"

"Delicious," Baby responded with more enthusiasm.

Chow cleared his throat. "Yes, well, the point is that if you're good, you get presents, right?" Baby looked away, stroking his chin in deep thought, then glanced back at Chow and nodded. "Well, young Sinclair – we think it's time _we_ deserved a present this year. Do you know what it is _we_ want?"

"Um … a new squeak toy?" Baby theorized.

"Nooooo," Chow replied as more and more mammals appeared. "We want to live free of your family's insatiable appetite. If you let us go quietly, we guarantee you that you'll be a _very_ good boy. You'll deserve your mother's gifts of love and generosity."

"Really?"

Chow grinned. Children were such predictable creatures. "Yes, child. Now, are you going to rat us out – or do you want lots of presents?"

Baby stroked his chin again and shrugged. "Rat what out? Baby don't know nothin'."

Chow bowed and laughed, followed by quiet laughter among the other mammals. "That's a good boy. I'm certain your mother will be surprised just how good you are."


	3. Chapter 3

_Scenes of Refrigerator Day – Part Three_

(60,000,001BC – 5PM)

"I'm tellin' ya, Fran," Earl snarled as the Sinclair family walked through the forest, "first Robbie's trying to destroy the intimate family nature of singing songs around our refrigerator – now," he continued, sniffling, "_there's nothing to eat in the refrigerator_!" He sobbed. "How many years of holiday-related emotional roller coasters do I have to live through?"

"Earl, get a hold of yourself," snapped Ethyl, the elderly gray dinosaur as she pushed the joystick forward on her wheelchair. "We were fasting anyway."

Earl shook his head. "No, Ethyl – that was for the last two days. Today is Refrigerator Day and we have – _big surprise_ – nothing to eat!"

Robbie, who had been silent in protest, finally spoke to no one in particular. "It's like we're having to hunt our food just like our ancestors," he stated.

"Nobody's talking to you, ingrate," Earl reprimanded.

Fran shot Earl a dirty look. "Earl – maybe this is a sign."

"Of starvation," Earl mumbled angrily.

"Yeah, Mom," Charlene griped as she held Baby Sinclair in her arms, "it's one thing to dress up in funny costumes and _pretend_ to experience saving all of dinosaur society – it's another to be forced to do it _yourself_."

A small brown long-nosed mammal with wire glasses sauntered happily in front of the Sinclair family. He stopped and looked them all up and down. "Hey," he said, "aren't you guys the Sinclairs?"

Earl stomped forward and growled. "Yeah, we sure are. We've come to take your furry butts back to our house."

The mammal shrugged. "I'm Arthur Rizzic, remember, Mr. Sinclair? I haven't been a meal for you in, gosh, has it been two years now?"

Earl stopped and stared at him in confusion. "Rizzic? My former supervisor? _That_ Rizzic?"

Arthur nodded and smiled. "I'm headed for the party over by the swamp. The Howlin' J band is holdin' a bash to distract us all from Prey Day." He pondered at their dumbfounded faces. "Refrigerator Day?" He sighed as he finally saw a flash of recognition. "For us mammals, this is typically the scariest day of the year."

Charlene was the first to speak. "Gosh, that's awful," she noted sadly. "What should we do?" she asked her mother.

Arthur shrugged. "Well, we're all bringing presents of some sort. You guys are welcome to come too – if you want."

"You'd invite us?" Baby asked.

The little mammal nodded. "We're trying out a new holiday concept this year – temporary peace among all species."

Fran was visibly touched. She smiled. "What a wonderful concept."

* * *

(To the tune of "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town")

_Well, this is the hour,_

_Hide the fridge's cord,_

_Don't feel so sour,_

'_Cause you can't afford –_

_Presents for your lovely, tonight!_

_Mammals and Lizards,_

_Both having a blast,_

_We ain't got blizzards,_

'_Cause snow just won't last –_

_Have fun and remember, no fights!_

_Forget the 'frigerator,_

_Turn on the TV set,_

_We'll catch some football and some beer –_

_And sell this song on cassette!_

_Well, this is the hour,_

_Get up and go dance,_

_We got the power,_

_To score some romance –_

'_Cause I'll be honest, she's quite a sight!_

The mammals and the Scavengers laughed as they danced and watched a movie projector playing stop-motion holiday legends just outside the Tavern. The Howlin' J band continued to sing carols, hyped up by the good vibes of everyone getting along. The smell of alcohol wafted far and wide, and not a few mammals were already passed out on the ground.

Spike smiled as he stood back against the front door of the Tavern, watching the festive impromptu scene play out. He wondered if the Sinclair family was having this much … _fun_. Andre had never let them just play like this.

He hoped this wouldn't tarnish the Scavengers' reputations.

* * *

Monica shushed Roy. "Do you hear that?" she asked him.

Roy listened intently. "I hear music."

Monica nodded slightly. "That's what I hear." She looked down at him. "You want to go see what's going on?"

Roy smiled his silly grin. "Sure," he told her, blushing.

They continued to walk until they could smell alcohol and swamp gas. Mammals of all shapes and colors were dancing while dinosaurs jammed to some music being played by a raucous mammalian band.

Monica stared, her jaw slack. "What … is … that?"

Roy saw the black leather jackets on the dinosaurs. "Those dinosaurs are the Scavengers," he told Monica. He pointed at one of them, a large spiky one as he came toward them. Roy backed away and trembled. "That one comin' over here is the leader. I think he's Robbie's friend."

Monica bowed her head to get a better look at the spiky dinosaur. "What is all this?" she asked matter-of-factly.

"Just a little holiday get-together," he replied, grinning. "Name's Spike, by the way, toots."

Monica frowned. "Just a friendly observation – if you keep up that offensive and sexist language, I'll flatten you with my tail."

Spike backed up and put up his hands in placation. "Hey, don't get your neck in a twist, lady. We're all just havin' some fun down here."

Monica glanced at the mammals. "By luring mammals with free beer and then eating them? I realized Refrigerator Day was an exercise in crass commercialism, but I had no idea it had such a vicious and disgusting display of predatory deceit."

"Hey!" Spike snapped. "We're the Scavengers, not the Predators, get it?" he hissed. He scoffed. "Ain't you both friends o' the Sinclairs?"

Roy nodded.

Spike pointed angrily at Monica despite her fearsome size. "I heard about you durin' that trial thing at Wesayso. You go around demandin' respect outta everyone, but you ain't got _none_ for none of us or anyone else who don't bow down an' worship ya."

Monica remained steadfast. "I take it you've met Mr. Sinclair," she noted dryly.

Spike turned to Roy. "Hey, Rex --."

"Roy," he corrected.

"Roy," Spike continued, "Don't you get tired of listenin' to her whinin' about her eternal victimhood?"

Monica growled. "I take offense at that."

"No kiddin'," Spike retorted. "You think you're high and mighty just 'cause you're bigger 'an us?"

Monica shook her head. But before she could respond in kind, Spike was already talking again. "Then relax," he told her. "Get a couple o' drinks. Take in some tunes. We're all da same here, toots. We _all_ don't fit the picture perfect … uh … picture … of Refrigerator Day family sweetness. We're moldin' this stupid day to fit _us_." He turned his back on her and smirked. "Of course, if you prefer goin' around and whinin' instead of _enjoyin'_ all that equality you're demandin', then go right ahead." He left to rejoin the others.

Monica glanced at Roy. "Do you believe he said that to me?"

Roy shrugged and inched away from her, avoiding her gaze. "To be honest, Monica, you _have_ had a habit of ignorin' my eternal love for you just because you t'ink you're better'n me." He glanced toward Spike. "I'm a well-known coward," he continued as she gawked at him in shock, "and I feel humiliated that this pack member told you exactly what I've been afraid to say. I was afraid you'd flatten me." He finally looked up at her. "I know I'm no engineer or nothin', but I would trade even the little respect I get for having the reputation of 'king of the dinosaurs' just to be able to hang out with you without you actin' like I got the plague or somethin'."

Monica, for once, was speechless.


	4. Chapter 4

_Scenes of Refrigerator Day – Epilogue_

(60,000,001BC – 7PM)

The Sinclair family gawked at the scene that lay before them: Roy placed mammals gently on Monica's back with his jaws while she sat on the ground so they could use her tail for a slide and the Scavengers were torturing the Howlin' J band with karaoke.

General Chow spotted the Sinclairs and walked up to them brazenly. "Don't think you'll get us to come back just so you can fatten yourselves on our meaty morsels, Sinclairs."

Earl looked at his family, who stared at him expectantly. He sighed and looked at the small half-eaten blue mammal, his voice humble, "We're not here to eat you. We came to wish you the best of luck this holiday season," he mumbled bitterly.

Tears started rolling down Chow's good eye. "You – you mean, we're _free_?" he gasped.

Ethyl frowned. "Don't expect us to become friends or anything," she groused. "Food that rotten would just have given us food poisoning. I'm getting too old to risk it."

Baby squirmed free of Charlene's grasp and fell with a thud to the ground. He smiled at Chow cheerfully. "I learned a new song, wanna hear it?" He inhaled deeply and sang (to the tune of "Jingle Bells").

_No one cares,_

_Ate a bear,_

_Hat stuck in my throat._

_I got sick,_

_Ma healed me quick,_

_Next time I'll spring for some goat._

Baby laughed as Fran picked him up. Fran smiled at Chow. "Maybe we can start a new tradition," she told him. She glanced at Earl. "Refrigerator Day hasn't been going too well in our family, so we might benefit from changing it up a bit." She looked back at Chow. "Starting this year, we'll spare all of the creatures on Refrigerator Day so they can have a chance to regain their lives."

"Yeah, but run fast," Ethyl grinned, "because when the sun rises the next day it's back to the good ol' food chain."

* * *

Robbie ran toward the makeshift stage, grabbing the mike out of Lingo's hands, and started to wail as the Howlin' J band picked up the tempo to the tune of "Jingle Bell Rock".

_What a bright time, it's the right time  
To rock the night away.  
It's about time, I start my climb --  
Up the hard rock charts to get big pay!_

* * *

As Charlene took Baby to play with the mammals, Fran smiled and sighed and held Earl's hands. "It looks like Robbie got the attention for his music he's wanted ever since he was twelve."

Earl looked away. "It's a shame we didn't bring the presents we got for everyone," he noted wistfully. "I was planning on surprising Rob with our present."

"What did you get him?" Ethyl asked, curious and without a hint of hostility, for the music and fun was getting infectious, even for her.

"We bought him something called a home video camera. All he ever talks about is becoming a rock star. We thought maybe finding a way to air his songs on TV might get his career started." Earl shook his head and sighed. "For what it cost us, the least he could do when he hits it big is use his obscene amount of money to buy me that plasma screen television set I've had my eye on for two or three years."

Fran smirked. "I'm so happy you found a way to spend the holidays thinking of someone other than yourself," she noted.

Earl smiled. "Well, it's an investment, raising kids," he said, not recognizing her slightly teasing tone.

Fran nodded and leaned up against him as they all watched the fun. "I think we may have given them the best present of all: a bigger family."

Earl grinned as widely as he could. "Yep – this was the least riskiest Thursday night I've ever had."

On a tall shelf deep in Monica's cave, a small silver refrigerator-shaped picture frame stood proudly, with a moveable "door" revealing a grinning Roy Hess holding a bouquet of roses.

**The End.**


End file.
